


Nobody's Art

by Tomillo



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Canon Gay Relationship, Dirty Talk, Fantasy Sex, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Humor, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Oral Sex, POV Brian Kinney (Queer as Folk), POV Justin Taylor (Queer as Folk), Romance, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Top Brian Kinney (Queer as Folk), True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 09:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15861288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomillo/pseuds/Tomillo
Summary: He has created his greatest work of art. It is not a messy art, with many extravagant colors or stripes. It's a sketch of the man of your dreams that will never exist. That's what Justin thinks, until the artwork comes to life.Justin realizes that no one is perfect, not even his own creation. AU (Alternative universe)





	Nobody's Art

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story I wrote in 2005. At that time I was too shy to publish one of my stories on the Internet so I saved them. Now I've edited this story, I've translated it (Sorry for my English, I'm new to fanfic translation) I'm from Latin America so maybe this has a lot of Spanish to English translation mistakes. I have taken the time to translate, at least, in the future I will edit again without errors:) enjoy!

Chapter 1

THE ART OF DREAMING

I want to believe that the perfect man exists. He is tall, with a haughty look of hazelnut with hints of gold, long fingers, a defined but not excessive body and disorderly brown hair. A God with a soft, velvety voice who tells me every night how much he loves me.  
I moaned, carrying my hand to the bundle that forms through my cargo pants, how can a man created in my own mind make me lose my mind like that? I can imagine Brian's breath in my ear, on my cock and all over my body. It's always like that. I close my eyes and touch myself enough to finish, but first I imagine the things this man does to me. The funny thing is, he doesn't even exist.

  
I promise my next play is Brian. I've thought a lot about drawing or doing some quick sketches, but in the end I don't do it for fear that my mind will continue to feed an impossible fantasy. If I could draw it in detail, I'd lose my fucking mind. I'm going to get even more excited at night when I see such a full-sized Adonis.  
That night I don't get carried away by my fears and get down to drawing Brian. It doesn't matter if later I am unable to look away from other men because I am in love with an imaginary man. This is so crazy. It's like worshiping a God. I think if I tell that to Daphne or anyone else, they'll put me in a psychiatric hospital. I imagine a doctor writing in his notebook: He hasn't been with anyone for six years. He says he has no need because his only need is Brian, a God he created in his mind.

  
Oh, shit.

  
I'm late for work. I feel tired but I don't give up on the task at hand. After a hot shower, a cup of coffee and an order of my art supplies, I take out my pencils and the biggest pad I have. I make measurements, I look for the right angle and choose the bright colors. Obviously in one night I'm not going to finish everything. I know it'll take days for my masterpiece to look real, I'm not stupid. At least I'll finish the body and the features.

  
I go all night without sleep and around seven in the morning I see "Brian" almost finished. Her eyes look beautiful and her features are a little defined. I caress with my fingertips, delighting myself. Even his cock was drawn with precision. Long, beautiful, with marked veins. I'm dying of sleep but I can't go back to sleep until it's dark again. I keep the materials, change my clothes and put my creation to one side of my only window. Brian seems to be looking at me from a distance, with his majestic height. The only thing I painted was his eyes, which made him look expressive. I moaned at how attractive Brian would look if he could arch one of his perfect eyebrows.

  
"I'll be back late, my love." I say gracefully before I close the door. God, I'm fucking insane. Loving a drawing....

THE ART OF BEING SURPRISED

"Well, are you going to tell me who that sexy man you drew is?" Daphne's still drinking her coffee.

  
"What?"

  
"I went to your apartment today because my nice T-shirt was there and you know, I have keys to the apartment" I bite my lip. "Who is he? He looks very hot but I wonder where you know him from" She frowns craftily.

  
I open my mouth for a few seconds and then close it again. What am I gonna tell her? He is not a man who exists, he is of my own creation and I love him. Shame on you. My cheeks turn red (I think) when I think of saying something like that.

  
"Oh, no."

  
"No what?"

  
"It's none of your business, Daph." I try to play it down, take another order and walk away from my best friend to get on with my work. I love Daphne but it bothers me when she tries to stick her nose in my personal problems. Somehow, I know I don't want to talk about it because Brian doesn't exist and Daphne is going to insist that the drawing looks too realistic to be a figment of my imagination. I'm not bothered by your curiosity, I'm bothered that there really isn't a real man in the conversation.

  
She's finally leaving. I give her an apologetic smile and a gesture that means I will call her on the phone after I leave work. Debbie's coming over.

  
"Sunshine, you look a little pale. Are you all right?" Her maternal instinct is admirable. My smile didn't reach my eyes.

  
"It's nothing, I think I'm going crazy. Or I am losing my sense of reality" I confess. She scowls with concern.

  
"We all do it sometime. It's a defense mechanism."

  
"I think so. I'll try to be more realistic" Debb's warm hand caresses my cheek.

  
"Don't feel bad about it. Realistic people are boring."

  
"Being realistic makes you see things clearly. Dreams are stupid," says Ted, one of Michael's friends, Debbie's son. I remain silent as she folds her arms and turns to look at the man.

  
"Look, asshole, I'm trying to help this kid who's in trouble. It works for you to be realistic, but not for him. We're all different. You should try to be more imaginative or dreamy. You may stop worrying so much about money and stop exploiting others" Everyone looks at the scene with surprise. Usually, Ted and Deb have a friendly relationship. "I'm sorry. But don't say something like that when I'm trying to cheer Justin up."

Ted nods.

  
"I think he's right," I say.

  
"All I can tell you is to take advantage of that gift God gave you. You're very special and don't feel bad about it. If you feel bad, I'm here" She points to herself, smiling warmly again, to walk to the kitchen, not without first pinching one of my cheeks.

  
I take my backpack and go home when my shift ends. I didn't even sleep for an hour, so I have darker circles under my eyes than usual. I've never wanted to come home, take off my clothes and sleep for a whole year. I think about the possibility of asking for a day off to get my mind back.

  
When I open the door, the darkness greets as usual. I always leave the lights off to pay less electricity at the end of the month and save energy. Besides, I like the dark. The city lights brighten up a bit and it looks nice in my eyes. I take off my shoes, feeling the soft material of the carpet. Home, sweet home. Looking out the window, I realize that my work is not there. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Maybe Daphne moved it. Nothing can ruin Brian. It's mine. Only I can move it around or touch it. The shame of being jealous of a picture makes me angry.

  
I feel noises in my room and I hold my breath. Thieves? I take a notebook and a sharp-pointed compass. It's not something that can protect me, but at least I'll be able to defend myself. I walk slowly to my room. If anyone shows up, I'm going to use all my strength, even though the lack of sleep is killing me. I groan as I stand at my door.

  
In one quick move I open the door but instead of finding thieves, I find the most beautiful person I can imagine. He's on the bed, holding a glass of Beam that I had in the fridge. Daphne always gives me alcohol that ends up in the fridge or ends up in the trash. The dim light of the lamp illuminates that perfect body.

  
"Oh, shit. You look very real" This is probably all about lack of sleep. I'm starting to imagine things and feeling paranoid. If the lack of sleep makes me imagine Brian on my bed, naked, so alive, with long fingers holding the glass, I don't want to sleep. Brian looks at me like he did this morning, with a touch of malice and a side smile.  
It's a hallucination anyway, isn't it? I take my clothes off slowly, looking back. I'm afraid he'll leave. It's the first time he's ever looked so real.  
After I get undressed, I think about the possibility that I'm crazy. I don't care about that. I begin to crawl to the body of my work. Brian looks at me with a hidden desire, but he still doesn't say anything.

  
"You're fucking awesome." I praise. Inside my mind I hear Daphne's voice saying that I'm full of shit and I have to go to an insane asylum right away. I pass my snowy fingers over his tanned chest, over the brown nipples, over the marked abs and I bite my lips, controlling my desire to jump on him and eat him with kisses.  
I'm definitely gonna stop sleeping more often. I feel his heart beating in the palm of my hand. I want to stay in control but I'm so impressed and crazy with desire that it's impossible. I feel like if I don't try any more of this man I'm going to freak out, if I'm not crazy anymore. It's a fantasy product of my lack of sleep, nothing more. It's okay if I touch him or try to have a sexual relationship with him. I leave my rationality in a corner and I kiss his cheek.

  
"You know what you do to me?" I kiss the corner of Brian's mouth. So perfect. "You drive me crazy. You've been driving me crazy for years and I don't know what to do to forget you. You'll never exist and it kills me. Should I keep feeding a silly fantasy?" It's stupid to ask that of my artwork but everything looks so real that I hope to receive your answer. Brian puts Beam's glass aside and in one quick move takes my wrists. I'm pinned down. "I understand, you don't want me to talk about my obsession with you anymore." I moan as I feel his mouth so close. Without being able to add anything else to my previous sentence, I am already being deeply kissed. In other fantasies I've already imagined how those kisses felt, but I've never felt such real contact. If you tell me right now that I'm going to die, I'm going to die with the utmost happiness.

  
Brian stops his play on my wrists and I take advantage of it to bring my hands to his brown hair that I always wanted to touch. Kisses get even more intense. I can't imagine there's anything more pleasant than kissing this God.

  
"I want you inside me" I whisper, licking Brian's lower lip. "Please fuck me, before this is over." I don't know how long this hallucination will last.  
I didn't have to beg too much.

It's supposed to be a fantasy, so why should I worry about banal things that are necessary in the real world? he puts my legs on his shoulders (God, even a simple act is erotic)

  
"Do it, please, I need to feel you" I close my eyes and feel the head of that perfect cock in my tight entrance. "Oh, fuck." It hurts. Why does it hurt so much? In my usual fantasies I feel no pain. I scream for a few seconds and open my eyes. The pain was soon replaced by intense love. Brian looks so beautiful with the sweat falling off his forehead. Moaning and smiling. He's in a happy place. That place is me.

  
After two rounds of intense sex, I struggle to move on but the dream literally kills me. With sadness and drawing lines on God's chest, I close my eyes to sleep.

TBC...


End file.
